


A Demon's Desire

by MisterCottontail



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Bondage, Demonic Possession, F/M, Forced Orgasm, Hermaphrodites, Loss of Virginity, Magic, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Paralysis, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Swing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 10:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17958707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisterCottontail/pseuds/MisterCottontail
Summary: Deep in the heart of the circle of mages, a young girl undergoes her final test as a magic user. Her focus slips for just a moment, just long enough for a genderless force of lust to use her body as an unwitting portal into a shocking ritual. Forced to watch as her unconscious body is used for the pleasure of the domineering templars, Amell is driven to the brink of insanity.2011





	A Demon's Desire

Hideous black and red flames swirled across the hazy stone floor of the hallway. The hall’s roof swelled and sagged, almost as if in response to the visual heat. Towering pillars seemed to shift in size and number as she moved between them. Every labored step seemed to the mage as if she were treading through heavy water. The very air itself seemed to resist her, and shining multi-colored sparks trailed from her fingers and limbs as she swam-walked through it. Through openings in the wall that could be poorly described as windows, she observed the sickly yellow sky; boiling brown and orange clouds obscured the towers of the Black City. She focused and glided forward through the invisible resistance. Ahead, the demon waited patiently for her. The demon knew well enough that it could not escape her, not in the Fade, its own domain, so it instead made the attempt to tire her. The demon’s plan was working, however, and they both knew it. Amell doubted that she had the strength to hold off the demon, even if she could find enough to reach it in the first place.

The demon, though motionless, wavered in the air if Amell looked directly at it. The instability of the fade glossed everything over, as if the world were being viewed through a greasy lens. She was determined to reach the creature; the advice of an aging mouse near her entrance led her to believe that her time here was limited. Though she had had the common sense to ignore the creature, that one bit of wisdom seemed to ring true.

Now, the very tiles themselves seemed to be resisting her; they twisted and writhed under her feet, as if alive and repulsed by her touch.

Come on, she thought to herself, you’re a mage, use some bloody magic. She focused downward and surrounded herself with a tight ball of telekinetic energy, which she then released in one rapid shockwave. The force erupted under her feet, sending her into the air and out of the sludge-like miasma of the hall floor. She twisted her fingers through the air as she spun upward. The lights trailing from her fingertips swirled around her in a graceful spiral. She smiled and flicked her wrist, sending a ball of bluish white plasma through the air, directly at the reclining form of the desire demon. The demon vanished in an explosion of blue sparks, leaving only a few wisps of steam and dark energy behind. The strange qualities of gravity near the floor of the hall slowed her fall, and she was able to align herself upright long before her booted feet hit the ground.

Looking around, she spotted the mouse, rushing toward her, seemingly uninhibited by the fade’s trickery.

“I knew you could take care of her alone,” he projected at her, “Told you, didn’t I?”

“Still, you could have helped,” she thought back, knowing that words would be useless here.

“It’s time to go,” he replied. “Are you still going to take me with you?”

“I don’t remember ever saying that.”

“You can’t take it back now,” the mouse seemed to be growing larger, sprouting long twisting horns and flaming violet hair. “We had a deal.”

“No, Mouse, not you.” The true demon sprouted from the brown fuzzy remains of the mouse, a smile spreading across its face as the horror of truth spread over Amell’s face. “I said nothing of leaving with you.”

“You promised to help me, mage. Now it is time to do so.”

Amell tried to scream, but as she opened her mouth, the toxic air of the fade tore through her lungs, shredding her throat and burning her flesh. The demon’s claws ripped into her skin, and the cold force of the creature gripped her. The demon’s full breasts pressed firmly against her own, and she could feel the shocking presence of rigidity against her hip. The hermaphroditic creature smiled knowingly at Amell, and pressed its icy, dry lips against her gaping mouth.

 

Amell’s eyes sprung open. The world was painted in a blood-red haze, but she recognized the surrounding features. The repetitive circular room was lined with massive stone pillars and little else. From the feel of things, she was draped over the delicate metal brazier in the center of the room. She tried to stand, as the decorative steel object was pressing uncomfortably into her chest. Her body seemed to have other, less mobile plans, however. No amount of effort seemed capable of inspiring motion in any part of her body. She did begin to become dimly aware of the fact that she could still feel, however. Also, she noticed that she seemed to be able to look around, even without the assistance of turning her actual head.

“What is wrong with her eyes?” A deep but strangely nervous voice came from directly in front of her, and she focused on looking toward it. “They are…they are glowing.” It was Cullen, a young Templar that had just recently appeared in the tower.

“Are they open?” This voice came from behind her, she didn’t recognize it.

“No, but I can see them glowing through her eyelids.”

“Stranger things have happened when their spirits are in the fade. Don’t worry about it. She won’t know about any of this.” Amell could hear something moving over her body; it was a raspy and metallic sound, as if two sheets of studded leather were rubbing together. She glanced upward, and observed a strange collections of straps, buckles, chains, and poles being lowered from the ceiling. The sight of it brought an explanation to the out-of-place sound of a grinding winch she had thought she heard since awakening. Things were happening too quickly, and she was having trouble making sense of it all. She felt several pairs of strong hands lift her limp body off of the large font, and was flipped onto her back with a gracefulness that spoke of years of practiced repetition. Whatever was happening to her, it was nothing new to these men.

A cold voice made itself heard in the recesses of her mind.

“Have you guessed what’s happening yet, dearest pet?”

“Maker, am I being executed?” The phantom voice laughed; it was the dry sound of wind over dead leaves.

“Why would I wake you for that, pet? There is little fun for me in allowing you to watch your own death.” The voice grew steadily louder as it spoke, until, by the end of the sentence, it felt as if someone were shrieking directly into her ears. Amell felt pushed, from within, as if some other body were trying to slip into her skin. Electric signals fired through her nerves as the demon slid its ephemeral arms around her, and pressed its indefinable sexuality against her own.

“I am already motionless, demon, why must you possess my spirit as well?”

“How can I enjoy it, child, if I can’t feel what they are doing to you?”

“Her eyes are kind of pinkish now, ser,” Cullen, his voice on the verge of trembling.

“Shut up and heft your weight, boy,” Even though she could easily see him now, Amell still did not recognize this man. The Templar all looked the same to her, to be honest, big men in big metal suits. “That’s low enough, man, come and lift the wench in, we don’t have all night.”

The men’s gloved and armored hands grabbed firmly onto her limbs, each man working to push or prod her into position among a dozen heavy leather straps, which they buckled and lashed around her. The poles were slid into position behind her back, and her arms were lashed to these. Finally, the men stepped back, leaving her to dangle spinning in the air by the strength of the leather alone. In the end, she was more or less in this position: her back almost horizontal, with her hips lower than her shoulders. Her legs were held in separate straps, spread apart, by the lower thigh, so her bent knees were about even with her shoulders. The man that seemed to be leading these Templar was approaching her with a long kris blade.

“So it is to be my execution after all,” Amell lamented to herself. The demon scoffed silently, uncaring that this gesture could not possibly be picked up by the mage.

The Templar, a Knight-Commander judging from his armor, slipped the blade under the hem of Amell’s heavy robes, between her ankles, and stabbed upward. The tip of the curving blade pierced through the thick wool easily, and made a satisfying sound as it tore through to the hilt. The Knight-Commander pulled it toward himself, tearing through the hem before sliding it back into its sheath somewhere on his person. He gripped either side of this significant tear, and pulled the fabric in opposite directions, splitting it quickly up the center until the rip ended at the thick belt securing the waist of the garment.

“Cullen.”

“Yes, Knight-Commander Harrith…ser.”

“Get over here and help me work the fabric off of her. It’s tangled in the straps.”

“Ser, I…Yes, ser.” Cullen worked his way over to Harrith’s side, and tentatively grabbed one scrap of fabric. Harrith was violently tugging on the cloth, unceremoniously moving Amell around to get the fabric moving more easily. By the time Cullen had freed his half of the robe, Harrith had already moved on to unfastening Amell’s belt. Cullen backed up, hoping not to be noticed.

With the belt removed, Harrith was able to rip the rest of the robe, pulling the now useless fabric from Amell’s body. The paralyzed mage was horrified as her sizeable breasts fell into the open. As the chilled interior air circled around her newly exposed nipples, the demon sighed with pleasure. While some underclothing was appropriate under the mage robes, Amell had always found the tight silk tops to be constricting while casting complex spells. She now regretted that lack of modesty.

“They’re big for one so young, don’t you agree, Ser Cullen?” Without waiting for a response, Harrith reached out and grasped Amell’s chest. Her full breast filled his palm. Harrith savored her delicate, sheltered skin for a moment before moving on. Amell became aware of a subtle shift in movement on the outskirts of the room. The six or seven other Templar were shuffling slowly closer, each of them keeping their hands close to their groins. Meanwhile, Harrith was busy pulling on the linen underclothing that protected all that was left of the girl’s privacy. The wide spread of her thighs effectively defeated most of the privacy offered by the thin center strip of linen, and from where he stood, Harrith could easily see the shape of Amell’s pussy.

Harrith grabbed the crotch of the girl’s under linens – his knuckles grazed her, causing her to shiver within herself uncomfortably. The garment, tied closed on either hip, came off easily enough, and Amell found herself with nothing more to hide her shame. Humiliation was beginning to replace shock as her dominant emotion. Now that she was no longer able to deny what was happening, she was utterly floored by its occurrence. No one had said anything about the Harrowing to her, but she had hardly assumed something like this was involved. And to think, Cullen was participating. He had always seemed so nervous, so afraid, as if he felt that just speaking to her would be a sin.

Amell was brought rapidly back to the present by the rough sensation of Harrith’s fingers on her warm slit. One of his broad fingers pressed against her opening, prodding it, as if testing for its safety. She shrieked with horror and realization, but her protests were silent to all but the demon.

“If I’m not mistaken,” Harrith spoke, apparently to himself, because the immediately following words faded out of hearing. Then, “Cullen!” The nervous Templar seemed to shudder slightly. He had been making progress toward slipping backward into the circle of anonymous men, out of Harrith’s immediate concern. “You took your vows, correct?”

“Yes ser,” Cullen gulped. The question seemed out of place, and it allowed him to temporarily forget his fear. “At the Chantry, like everyone else.”

“You are chaste then? Pure?”

“Ser?”

“This girl is a virgin. It is only fitting that a pure man has her first.” Harrith smiled, the expression grim and foreign to his face. In response to his comments, the circling Templar seemed to chuckle and gesture at each other.

“Ser?” Cullen’s second response was a bit more labored, as if he was unsure that Harrith knew what he was saying. The one thing that Cullen was sure of was that the sight of the restrained nude girl was having very biological effects on his youthful body. Even if he wasn’t entirely sure of the actual proceedings of sex, his body was quite sure it could figure things out without him. He shifted uncomfortably in his armor. The movement was not lost to Harrith’s trained eyes.

“Help him out a bit lads,” Harrith began, “We’re on a time limit.” Several Templar broke from the outer circle and fell upon Cullen, their gloved hands prying at buckles, straps, and latches. Seeing little reason to object, Cullen allowed them to work, until all but his leather under-armor was left. The fabric codpiece that protected his masculinity bulged at the growth within it, which was apparently unaffected by the embarrassment of being stripped by his peers. He noticed, upon raising his shamed eyes from the floor, that Harrith had apparently lost interest in him entirely. The man stood between Amell’s legs, his thumb and index finger on either edge of the girl’s cleft. He dragged them up and down its entirety, squeezing and massaging it as he went.

Amell’s head was a psychotic cacophony. Her internal screams merged with the demon’s soft moans of lust until she was unsure which of them were responsible for the noise. The focus of the demon’s power was around her pussy, and the creature was clearly enjoying the forbidden attention. Cullen watched, amazed, as the unmistakable shine of moisture developed between Harrith’s fingers. The invasive pheromones of the girl’s arousal floated through the air, planting firmly in Cullen’s mind. Following Harrith’s hurried gestures, he stepped toward her. His heartbeat raced. Had they known of his affections for this girl? Is that why they brought him here tonight, of all nights? Was this a usual rite, or was it some conceived torture for him? Much as his mind protested, he was willing to ignore it for the time being.

Surely, he justified to himself, my love for this girl will absolve me of the sin of her flesh. Surely, Harrith’s actions are more deserving of punishment than my own.

“They don’t stay under forever, Cullen,” Harrith grumbled. “If you are unwilling to take her maidenhead, I am more than willing to take the honor upon myself.”

“No!” Cullen responded, perhaps too violently. “As you said, ‘tis only appropriate.” The thought of Harrith’s dirtied hands on the virginal girl sealed his will. He would take her, if only to spare her the pain of being corrupted by that other man. Harrith smiled, the expression carrying no small amount of disappointment, and moved slowly away. Cullen stepped toward her slowly. Part of him hoped that she would awaken before he got to her, but he was beginning to think that such an occurrence would not stop these men. The best course of action, he reasoned, the most noble act would be to take her sin myself, now, lest she be awake to have it taken by Harrith.

Cullen placed his hand on her thigh. The skin was silky, tan like cured leather, and taut. Moving it upward, his fingers came to rest again. His middle finger slid naturally into place along the inner folds of her slit. The still-growing moisture quickly surrounded it. The warmth and softness of her surprised him. Her breathing alone caused enough motion for his limply placed finger to slide along its inner crevice. His cock was now throbbing painfully against the restrictive fabric of the codpiece. Something to be said for Templar training, he thought, it certainly teaches you how to perform under scrutiny.

He had bathed with the other men many times in the past, but he had never been seen by another person in such a rigid state. He took some comfort in the anonymity provided by the other men’s helmets, and the fact that Harrith was no longer directly looking at him. Drawing his courage, he undid the lacing of his clothes, and pulled his erection free. There was a merciful lack of reaction from the room. Cullen stepped forward. His cock fell onto Amell’s cleft, its blunt head gliding easily up between her lips, which were spread somewhat by her awkward position.

Inside Amell’s body, the demon shivered with pleasure. Even without penetration, the underside of Cullen’s shaft was sliding along Amell’s clit, sending waves of electricity through both entities. Amell stared between her legs. She had never held a boy’s hand, never kissed, never been courted, and now, Cullen was sliding his cock against her wet, exposed mound. Though most of her was horrified, and desperately fighting to regain some control, a part of her was reveling in the excitement. This was rape, after all, and she couldn’t be punished for engaging in sex if she wasn’t in control at the time. This was a forbidden act, a private, intimate thing of which she had little knowledge.

Meanwhile, Cullen was fascinated by the slick sensation of Amell’s pussy. He slid his hips slowly back and forth, letting the head of his cock slide from the bottom to the top of her slit before pulling it back down again. Each time, the tight opening that was the source of this moisture seemed to catch his girth, opening just enough for the tip of his cock to enter it before resisting. The teasing pleasure of his unsure thrusts was driving the demon into a lustful frenzy. Amell felt the creature spin its power over her body. Small circles of fire danced around her nipples, and unknown sensations raced along her lower back, following the curve of her ass before twisting around sensitive nerves she had never before considered. She felt that she was quickly losing out to the erotic sentience.

A sudden outbreak of goose pimples across Amell’s skin startled Cullen. He was worried about the girl’s reaction, should she awaken, but his body stressed that it was too late to turn back now. He drew his length back, shivering with anticipation as the end of his cock fit again into the waiting entrance of Amell’s virginity. He placed one slightly trembling hand on her suspended hip, and the other underneath on the small of her back, as if supporting her. He pressed forward.

Cullen felt as if a tight sleeve of fabric were being pulled over his length. The spiraled muscles of her inner walls hugged his girth firmly, the slick surface of her inside pulling him ever deeper. He gasped despite himself as one bit of resistance broke, and he plunged into her until his pelvis pressed against hers.

Amell shrieked. A sharp, needle-like pain filled her for a brief moment, a flash of agony framed by intense nervous pleasure. She felt like she was struggling to breathe. Cullen’s cock felt massive inside of her. The weight of it seemed to pull her down, and her unconscious reactions squeezed around it, intensifying the incongruous pained desire. The demon cried out with triumph. Its force spun around the iron length of Cullen, relishing both her pleasure and her misery.

The Templar remained motionless for a long time. He could feel every pulse of her body. Her pussy squeezed against him, as if trying to force him out, but when he finally began to pull back, it opened to him again. When he thrust into her, his cock sliding easily into her depths, he could feel her moisture against him. He felt the nearly imperceptible shudders of her lower body as the upper side of his shaft slipped under the bottom of her clit. He began thrusting more quickly, focusing on the intense pleasure of penetrating her; on the sensation of such intense heat encasing his most sensitive parts. He didn’t know there could be such satisfaction in such an act, but each thrust sent fiery lust exploding through him. He quickly forgot his humility, and pumped with earnest, groans and sighs escaping his throat.

If Amell were in control of her own body, she knew tears would be streaming from her eyes. She was completely unprepared for such unavoidable sensation. Her entire being seemed to be punctuated by Cullen’s thrusts. Each time he left her, she longed for him to enter again. The worst part of it was being completely unable to react. She couldn’t thrash around, she couldn’t clutch her fingers into his hair, or wrap her tense legs around his pumping back. She had completely given into the animalistic desire the demon inspired, but lacked the physical body necessary to achieve such satisfaction.

“I will go mad, demon,” She screamed inside herself, “if I cannot find a release for this intensity!”

“Whore!” The demon cackled, it’s duality of gender more obvious now as it reached its own climax. “Are you now more willing to make a deal?”

Cullen gasped, losing himself in her tightness. He released Amell’s thigh, grabbing his tightly-drawn balls with the free hand, amazed at how naturally he could pleasure himself. He was fucking her now, there could be no other term for it. Each thrust was hard and violent, the kind of selfish sex that only a person more used to masturbation can enjoy. His grunts were louder now, easily heard by any of the other men in the room. He noticed that several of the Templar had moved closer, and were busily working their own erections with ungloved hands, taking advantage of the rare sight before them. In his lustful passion, Cullen had forgotten his love for this girl. The demon’s influence, affecting even him, was enough to turn her into an object, and little more.

“A deal! A deal! Gods yes! I accept your terms, Demon, I will help you if you just allow me release from this Hell!”

 

The girl was screaming. Cullen was too. She flung herself forward, pulling her arms from the leather loops that held them, and wrapping them around Cullen’s sweaty shoulders. She bit into his neck, screamed with pleasure into the masculine scent of his skin, and closed her thighs around his thrusting hips. She was ravished for sensation, begging for the hedonistic pleasure she was experiencing for the first time. Amell drove her hips against Cullen’s, grinding her clit against his shaft.

Cullen gasped, closed his eyes tightly, and threw a hand up to firmly grasp the girl’s chocolate hair. He plunged deeply into her as he came, thrusting with passion as the orgasm poured over his tingling body. She held him tightly inside of her, rolling her hips against him, seeking out her own pleasure even as his cum flowed out of her around the base of his girth. She fell back into the supportive leather harness, her nimble fingers finding the tiny sensitive bump at the apex of her slit. As she rolled her clit between fingers lubricated by their shared arousal, Cullen continued thrusting laboriously, grabbing the heavy leather straps to hold himself upright.

The other Templar had closed the gap completely now, somehow more inspired by her sudden mobility. Two near her shoulders came at nearly the same time, shooting onto her exposed and surprisingly sensitive breasts. She noticed a third man standing near her waist, and grabbed his cock with her unoccupied hand, mimicking the motion of sex with her fist. The man had lubricated his cock with his own saliva, and her fingers slid along his length almost as easily as they slid around her pussy. She held Cullen inside of her with her legs, squeezing against his firmness as a telling heat built around her opening. She felt the unknown Templar shudder, and sighed with satisfaction as his hot cum fell onto her flat stomach. She kept pumping his cock, milking his orgasm with some bit of knowledge the demon left her with. When the last of the anonymous Templar pressed his cock against her lips, her arousal was enough to make her more than willing to accept it into her waiting mouth. He had not been waiting idly, and when he had approached her, he had been masturbating for some time.

The first signs of her orgasm began to elevate her breathing and make her head spin just as her soft tongue worked a climax out of the Templar. He cried out and grabbed the back of her head as he came, ejecting the warm salty fluid between her lips. She released him and swallowed hurriedly as he backed away, the fluid leaving a burning sensation in her throat. She pulled herself up again, grabbing onto Cullen as her body shuddered uncontrollably. She tried to shout as the orgasm crashed over her, but no sound could be made. Cullen fucked her rapidly as she came, he himself finding a last reserve to fire again before finally falling out of her relentless lust and collapsing to his knees, panting heavily.

Amell gasped and sobbed. She pulled her limbs free of her bondage and let herself fall to the stone floor in a defeated pile. The ornamental font had thankfully been knocked aside at some point during the rape. Her limbs ached and burned, and her pussy throbbed angrily. She stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop twirling around her.

Harrith stepped toward the broken woman. A senior Templar, and devout man, he alone could determine what had caused her sudden awakening. He stared at her mocha thighs, stained with blood and semen, the quivering of her still-visible pussy, and the pearly evidence of her sin at the corners of her mouth.

“You have passed through the harrowing, maleficar.” Harrith lifted away the steel plate in the front of his ceremonial armor. “Now it is my turn to judge thee.”


End file.
